march of the falsettos;; open- moving

[THEM]

[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-family:verdana;"]"Oh, wow... Congratulations, Moth." There's a sincerity in his tone, written, too, into the way his brows quirk upwards in surprise. He didn't know Moth well enough to possess the same outward joy that overwhelmed her brother, nor was he particularly close enough to give Selby a clap on the back and tell him damn, good for you, buddy. Most were well aware of the medics' relationship by now, the heartfelt confession they'd given after returning from battle (rather, it was a snippet of gossip now that he'd overheard in idle chatter). But this was surely momentous for the little family unit before him, so he wasn't going to kill the moment by butting in too quickly.

She's still attempting to move a lot of furniture and objects herself, though, and by the pace at which she was working she had a long way to go. An expecting mother shouldn't be left to do all that herself. He reaches to pick up one of her belongings, handling it with care as he presses gently, "How far along are you? Maybe you shouldn't, uh - be moving all of this yourself. Let somebody take over, just lead the way." Kaz had never really had to, well, handle this kind of news firsthand before. In the past, his only role was to sign off on an extended leave after the fact, shoo them away from the action and wait for their return. He didn't leave much room in his schedule to care about personal lives, nor did he bother to take the time to tend his own. The values in Tanglewood were far more - compassionate? individual-oriented? - than the lives he'd led in the past, in groups that saw bodies as numbers and resources. "I'll get the wheelbarrow, if you two, er... Want a moment."